Induction

The crowd erupted in chaos. Questions were yelled out; many people broke down in tears, men and women alike. The pregnant woman, Noelle—I had come to learn her name—stood next to her husband as he shielded her protruding belly like he could somehow protect the precious cargo from all that was happening. Jake stood next to me with his arms around a crying Meg. As the crowd broke, he led her into the store, and they huddled together on one of the display sofas. His eyebrows raised in question when I didn’t fall into step with them.

“I’m going to look around the store and find us some new clothes.” We were both still clad in the over-sized items pilfered from our last safe house. Looking down at my dirty, exposed legs, I’d be glad to burn every item on my person and get into something clean. I browsed the women’s section and settled on a pair of blue jeans and a plain purple tee shirt, picking out a black bra and panties along the way. In the shoes section I picked out the most comfortable pair of running sneakers I could find, then I went into the dressing room.

As I undressed, the events of the last few days bombarded my mind. I sat in silence in my self-imposed solitary confinement of the dressing room and cried.

I held Daphne and ran my hands through her silky fur. “I miss them, Daph.” I cried into her little body.

“I don’t even know what to feel. My parents so far away; Ollie so close. Am I supposed to grieve? To just assume they’re dead?” She didn’t answer me, but I felt a bit of my burden lift as I spoke the words.

Visions of Officer Donnelly, Alicia, Kat, and Jake’s parents cycled through my head. I whispered a soft goodbye to them as I tasted the salty tears that stung my cheeks.

I made my way out of the dressing rooms and discarded my dirty clothes into a bin meant for items that were to be returned to their shelves. No one would be putting those clothes away at the end of their shift. As I browsed the aisles to pick out clothes for Jake, I came across Adam. He was standing at the end of an aisle, fingers brushing a plush teddy bear. Seeing him felt like an invasion and I turned to leave him to his private moment.

“Emma, right?”

“Um, yes. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just looking for some new clothes for Jake. I can look somewhere else.”

“No, don’t. I could use some company.” He looked back to the teddy bear. I couldn’t read his face.

“Gabby will love that.” I nodded in the direction of the toy.

“What? Huh? Oh.” His arm dropped to his side. “It wasn’t for Gabby,” he said so low I could barely make out the words. “My daughter’s name was Janelle.”

I inhaled quickly, trying to find a way to answer him. “I’m sorry,” was the only thing that came out. What could I say? One of my instructors used to tell us if we looked up sympathy in the dictionary we’d find it between shit and syphilis: three things that no one wanted. Since then I had always shied away from telling people that I was sorry for their loss. I worked on being empathetic as opposed to sympathetic, but empathy meant I needed to share the feelings of another. I hadn’t lost a child, so I couldn’t empathize with Adam. Quickly changing the subject, I blurted, “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For stopping for us. We wouldn’t have made it much longer in that car, which means we wouldn’t have made it at all. You did a good thing today. You saved six lives.” I looked to Daphne and corrected myself. “Seven.”

Adam looked to his feet and kicked at an imaginary rock, his discomfort at the compliment causing his cheeks and neck to flush.

“I really need to get back to Jake and his sister before they get nervous,” I said.

I started back to Jake, turning around one last time. “I’m sure I’ll see you around,” I joked, and beamed a sincere smile at him before turning the corner.

* * *

One of the benefits of living the coastal life was that many big name stores and supermarkets, Target included, sat on waterfront property. Shoppers could drive up in their boats and tie up to do their shopping. The main advantage to this was it provided us with a defensible area. A cinder block barrier more than seven feet high ran from the back of the store to the water’s edge on both sides. The other side of the canal faced a row of homes. Our presence had not gone unnoticed, and the edge of land was lined with a horde of undead. With no chance they could reach us, the scene was less fear-inspiring than it should have been. Dead moans carried over on the breeze. I found myself sitting at one of the patio sets we brought outside. Lounging in one of the reclining chairs I gawked at the single-minded beasts.

It never failed. A new addition would push their weight into the foray and plop; the front line would fall into the water and get pulled under, to be carried away with the current. Sometimes, I pretended to cast a fishing line out and reel them in when they tumbled into the water.

* * *